Ginny at St Aiden's: A beginning
by Mech Anon
Summary: Ginny's first year at St Aiden's Cloister School of Magic.


2nd August 1993

She's quiet, too quiet she knows. Feels her parents watchful eyes on her constantly. The twins hover; their faces tight and pale, their hands darting out as if to touch and then yanked away.

She hides away hearing Tom's damning assessment of them. Finds herself surrounded by Ron's angry guilt.

Runs. Before pushes her towards Bill but she'll hurt him so she runs again. Finds herself alone on the roof. The Egyptian sun baking down on her skin pushing Tom from her mind. The bustle of Cairo silencing Before.

* * *

6th September 1993

The simple linen tunic felt odd, indecently light compared to the heavy woollen robes that had suffocated her at Hogwarts. Her leather satchel thumped comfortingly against her thigh with every step, second hand but she knew who owned it before her. The ink stain where Ron didn't do the cap up before returning the bottle, the little pink patch on the strap - something to do with the twins, the neatly repaired tear where Harry caught it and the empty notebook, comfortingly blank and mundane, sitting in the bag with a cheap fountain pen - it won't talk back, I promise - was like wearing home, family.

White, sun washed stone walls, seen for the first time in Indian summer sun, seemed safer though what was taught inside its twisting passageways would be no different from the castle that her mind painted in midnight and shadow. The pale oak door opened by her mother's hand and met by a woman more Sprout than McGonagall with an edge not quite hidden that made her think mum and safe twisted together. Hardness and practical mothering wrapping her in safety with every word then loosening the ties to show you can breathe, grow, learn, heal her mind whispered in Bill's voice.

"Eloise will take Ginny to the main reception hall where our other first years wait." The woman, Professor A- Ap- At- A-something, said pressing Ginny towards the girl-woman in the door.

Her no nonsense manner and poised grace seemed discordant and desirable, at the same time incredibly mature and innocent in away Ginny didn't think she could ever be again. Her mind shied away stepping away from Eloise and inadvertently towards the wall of noise. Eloise let her take two more disorientated steps into the warm crowded room before closing the door.

Her fellow first years seemed to barely notice another entrant caught up in their loud conversations, games and japes. Before-Ginny, Tom-Ginny and the barely formed Ginny-After-Tom warred; pushing her towards the boisterous girls on the right, the quietly observing boys and wanting to not corrupt anyone with her - their, maybe - no her presence. Hurt people. Again.

* * *

17th December 1994

Shawl; uneven - this bit thicker almost gnarled, this bit loose enough to slip her fingers through - rough where the wool was new or too old, too many colours to have a pattern. Embarrassing, Before-Ginny and Tom-Ginny agreed. Mine, Ginny-After-Tom disagreed, me.

Thick woollen tunic, too loose and too short, over wool stockings darned at night after Quidditch. Useless, Tom-Ginny sneered.

Satchel straining with books, her own marks on it now. Nerd, Before-Ginny complained. ME! Ginny-After-Tom said.

Nothing worthless, Tom-Ginny said. Losers, Before-Ginny agreed. My friends, Ginny-After-Tom said walking away from them toward the two girls at the fire. Her face brightening with a shy smile as the turned towards her.

"I'll miss you!" Three voices spoke over each other, childish excitement banishing barely woman. "Promise to write?" "Tell us what you got." "Tell us if Harry comes over?" Crossed over each other. Smiling faces nodded and hugged tight.

* * *

23rd March 1994

Grey, chill and damp. Green shoots pressing through the sodden soil. Catkins falling limp, tumbling off her shawl to land and slip slide down her satchel to the muddy path. Leaving wet pollen that sticks to her hands and coats her still too short, too loose tunic.

Chickens, new eggs, spring greens. Brothers home. Easter. Spring. Before-Ginny and Ginny-After-Tom think.

One of Mairwen's constantly moving hands catches on her shawl. Ginny pulls away, twisting to see her sheepish grin as Mair twists her fingers free leaving her hair flying in the brisk breeze like strips of parchment.

Ginny starts towards Mair, feeling her mouth pull into a smile. With a burbling laugh Mair runs, her slight frame dashing between the tree through gaps Ginny wouldn't dare.

Evy watches smiling behind her halo of curls on the path. "We'll be late," her voice so quiet they barely hear it running past her but they stop framing her.

* * *

15th August 1994

Loud, busy. Laughter turning to screams. Muggle bodies floating in the sky while Tom-Ginny laughs. Running through the trees, Before-Ginny gibbering while Tom-Ginny wants to go back. Ginny-After Tom tries so hard to think of nothing.

The magic so familiar when the mark is called. She whispers the spell with him. Thinks that Hermione heard.

It was a brilliant day but when she looks back it turns to screams and cruel laughter. Krum catches the snitch while muggles float past him. Ireland are awarded the trophy by Death Eaters. Hermione bleeds as Tom-Ginny laughs.

* * *

5th September 1994

Mum had been better over the summer, before the World Cup. She trusted in Ginny more, didn't hover like she had at Easter or Christmas. After the World Cup she was smothering. Always near them. Worse were her brothers. Mum had to leave sometimes but Percy was hovering always, the twins were tight and pale again, Ron angry and guilty again.

She hadn't been around Harry much since Tom but before the World Cup he was a snarky, intense presence always by Ron's side. After he was angry, angrier than Tom and angry at Tom. She wanted to run from him to hide. It was great relief that she returned to St Aiden's.

To walk the winding path, push the warm door open and push the shadows of Hogwarts and Tom from her mind. To see Mair, never still, and Evy, always quiet. She broke in to the first smile since the World Cup. The first true smile since Harry came to the Burrow.

She settled into the pew beside her friends and Tom was quiet.


End file.
